The Hunt
by Arait
Summary: Just a simple day hunting that becomes Shehaylu between unwilling partners. OCxOC.


The hunt. There was a thrill to it. A concentration was needed so deep it seemed your life depended on catching the target. Breath sounds and heartbeats were different while stalking and while chasing, for the hunter and for the hunted; though, every detail—every sound—was equally important, equally exhilarating. Two lives hung in the balance, and each slight motion played a role in the single focus: to live. The rest of the world seemed of less importance.

She crept closer, peering through the leaves of the fern separating the female from her prey. A tail twitched in excitement as she lifted a bow—a string of beads tied around the top—and pulled the fletchings close to her face. Another inch forward and her shot would be true; she could tell somehow. As the animal most closely resembling poultry in this place was currently scratching for food, the bright red and orange turkey-like bird with a long down-turned tail could not possibly know of its coming demise.

A stick cracked. Had she stepped on it mistakenly in her final approach? Alerted, the bird looked up, around the area, while the girl tried to sink back into the forest's cover. Maybe the bird would calm and she could reaim. What had snapped the stick, however, turned out to not be her. The bird lifted into the air and flew off when a six legged stag wandered, grazing, into the area. It was a light brown color…in some places, with shimmering blue and black tiger stripes down the sides and elsewhere.

This would do as well, the girl decided, preparing once more to shoot. Adrenaline began to pump and her heart to race as the new animal entered her shooting range. Trying to calm herself, she held the bow back tight. She could already taste the fresh meat in her mouth. This animal, though, reached the same place as the bird and also ran off.

An urge within her pushed her to her feet. The chase. Relaxing the bow, she ran after the creature. A couple moments later, a boy came in cautiously, looking all around before continuing his chase, a bounce in his graceful pace. But he stopped, halfway through the clearing, glancing down at his blue speckled face in a creek and laughing to himself. Behind his reflection could be seen the tree he had been climbing through. He had scared off the animals. With a carefree shrug, he too ran off, gliding across the ground like his feet never touched.

The world around the girl went by like a blur. She was not yet used to the feeling. Sometimes it seemed more like the ground moved from beneath her rather than she atop its surface. Even as fast as she moved, twigs fleeing from her path and leaves slapping against her arms, the animal was increasing the distance between them. Her heart thumped in her chest; her breathing filled her ears with its sound. If an analysis was based on only these factors, time would seem to stop. Still the surroundings rushed by.

She hesitated as the path split. The prey had chosen the lower way passing by ground, but she could choose to run above. If the creature continued on a straight path, she could cut it off. Climbing a small embankment onto a large protruding root, she sprinted along it, mostly in balance. After following the mossy root for some time, she was starting to catch up. The feeling of success was short lived, as a crag suddenly proved to be in the creature's way. Rather than go around it, the animal darted quickly off to the right.

Reacting in a hurry, the pursuer jumped off the root and slid down the embankment. As she descended, she took a moment to appreciate the feel of the moist dirt between her toes as it was pushed aside by her feet. Attaining level ground, she ran two steps, stopped to catch her balance, and then charged after her certain dinner. Bursting through the same underbrush the animal had, she found it gone.

At first all she could hear was the straining effort of her lungs and heart, not used to the kind of vigorous run. Slowly, as she walked through the area—which appeared to be a perfectly arranged flower garden centering around one tree—her own self calmed enough to give way to normal rainforest noises. Birds, insects, animals, motion, wind, water…adrenaline remaining in her system made each seem as threatening as the last. In her pursuit she had lost track of where she was, she realized. This place could be dangerous. She had no idea what could be lurking in the forest beyond.

That knowledge frightened her. Bringing her bow to chest height, and drawing it back halfway, she searched around, eyes darting from one place to another, following each sound that reached her ears. Something was out there, and it was going to get her. She was paranoid.

Certain that one noise was definitely a threat, she turned, releasing a shot towards the origin of the sound. The next thing she heard was something hitting the ground. Satisfied, she lowered her bow and headed to the edge of the clearing to see what she'd shot down. She never made it that far.

Completely unexpectedly, something crept out of the bushes behind her. Rising to her same height, he appeared far more intimidating than he actually was as he reached out a blue, four fingered hand. Grabbing her arm caught her surprised attention, and she whirled around to look upon one of the Na'vi people glaring furiously at her. He clearly didn't notice any difference between her and any other Na'vi person because—so angry he forgot to greet her—he shoved her arrow into her hand and shouted at her in his language.

"Ngal oeti timakänguk!" He accused the girl. She did not understand a word of it. Her knowledge of the language was very limited, but it didn't take words to realize she'd shot at him. In fact, the arrow in her own four fingered hand showed that well enough.

She would apologize if she knew the words. "Sorry," she muttered quietly. He kept complaining to her, somehow still thinking she understood him, but frustrated she would not respond, he shoved her. The rude response led her to wonder why he had been following her to begin with. She would have asked that too! So it was his own fault he had been shot at.

Disinclined to tolerate abuse for something she could not be blamed for, she shoved him back. "Rä'ä," he complained, pushing back even harder. Then he repeated, "Ngal oeti timakänguk!" Scoffing like he knew he would not get anywhere from talking with her, he turned away, showing her only his tail, his long braid, and his perfectly toned body.

She figured he must run a lot as she watched him walk away. Something else came to her mind as well, however. If he had followed her all this way, he was probably the reason her prey had run off. Growling at him, she lunged forward and leapt onto his back.

"You think you can get away with just walking off? No way," she assured as she leapt. The added weight of her body threw him off-balance, and he tumbled down a hill, the girl all the while mentioning, "You're—umph—the reason I won't—umph—eat tonight…You deserved to be shot."

The two were separated as they rolled down the hill, and each hurried back to their feet at the bottom. Tails waving back and forth for balance and with a playful eagerness to fight, they faced off. As she had stumbled a little getting back up, the boy cocked his head curiously. A small laugh accompanied a smirk when he thought he'd figured it out.

Upset by the laugh, the female drew out a rough, hand-made knife, ready to fight, but the boy just began to circle around her. Investigating, examining something to test his theory, he came closer, taking a sniff at her. Protective of her space and self, she swung the knife to keep him away. He did dodge away from it, but quickly returned. Fingering the hint of a scar on her neck from a past life, he came to his conclusion.

"Uniltìranyu. Nga lu meyp," he stated, spitting the last word like it both disgusted and intrigued him. Then, knowing now she did not know what he had said, he translated what he could to English. "You: dreamwalker…broken. Is weak."

"Oh, and you think you can just come out and say it, huh?" The girl returned angrily. "Do you always go around insulting people? Tell me, what do you know about being broken?"

Not fluent enough in English to catch most of that, he stared at her in a confused daze. The blankness had overtaken him so much that he forgot to notice the girl's knife slicing gracefully toward him once more. In the last second, he saw it from the corner of his eye and stopped her arm with his hand. "It's true," he insisted only that she was broken, "nga tul ketslusam." He gestured to her feet that almost just made her trip, but she did not know he had just accused her of being an incapable runner. When he backed up with a bounce, teasingly taunting her to chase, she understood.

Maybe she was not the best runner out there yet—she was still getting used to these legs—but she was not physically limited, not anymore. He would not get away with that accusation. So chase him she did. Smirk snug on her face, she darted forward, reaching the boy before he even turned around to run correctly. Grabbing his shoulder with her left hand, she pulled him back around, swiping her knife across his arm. She could beat him, and she wanted him to know that.

Giving her a cheesy glare, he cocked his head to the side a second time and swatted away her hand. Then, his playful attitude vanished. After grasping the cut in his skin, anger took over. He attacked back. Launching himself at her, he growled, heading straight for her side unprotected by the knife. She got her elbow there in time, forcing him several feet back with a blow to the chest. He grabbed a loose stick from the ground beside him, gazed intently at her to determine what might be her next move, and then charged back in.

It was obvious she would need something with which to block his attacks, now that his weapon was longer than hers. Glancing at where she dropped her bow on the way down the hill, she went to retrieve it. Ducking under one swing of the branch first, she blocked the second with the frame of her bow, following up with a furious attack with her knife. The boy dodged to the side, slashing back out at her chest.

She jumped away, leaning back to avoid being hit. Reversing her hold on the knife, she ran back in to stab him. Bending over to knock her feet from under her, he easily ducked beneath the potential death blow. Likewise, a quick leap off the ground kept the girl from laying face down in the dirt, as momentum pushed her, in a slide, sideways over the bent over back of her opponent. Easily rolling off, she landed crouched down, on her feet with one hand down to catch her and her knife ready to attack.

The boy posed in a similar cat-like fashion. Both paused, thinking up their next move. Glares exchanged, their tails waved back and forth in excitement. The girl was the one to stand first—having the most to prove by this battle. As she reached her feet, however, a sharp pain pulled at the back of her head. She reached up to the start of her long braid to determine what had caused the pain, and watched as her enemy browned while he did the same. Each one following their hair with their eyes along the braid to the center between them was overwhelmingly shocked to see they had bound together. _Shehaylu._

Frantic as a first reaction, both yanked hard on their own hair. Neither had wanted the connection to begin with, and now they could not get apart. Only the boy knew the way to separate, and he was not very pleased about accepting it. She, however, did not know, and would be more likely to kill him or chop it off than get the right solution.

Seeing her intentions in her eyes, he rushed toward her, reaching for the knife. She reacted quickly, pulling the knife out of his grasp and repaying him with an elbow to the back of the neck. The boy blinked twice before his eyes rolled to the back of his head, causing him to collapse to the ground. A second later she fell screaming on top of him when there was no more slack in their connected braids. With a grunt she sat back up. Pushing stray, smaller braids from her face, she set about trying to untangle herself from the boy.

He woke, first to the cheerful sounds of forest animals, then to the smell of wet, fertile dirt. Frustrated that he had been overcome by a female, he pushed himself off the ground to the sight of the girl pulling their braids apart one strand at a time. Eyes widened in fear, he pounced upon her, grabbing the connected hair out of her hands.

"Ftang!" He hissed angrily. It seemed like he planned on explaining some, but the girl shoved him away first. Anything he said would be in Na'vi anyway.

"Then how would you suggest we get apart, huh?" She demanded, storming to her feet.

By necessity, the boy followed, rubbing his sore neck where she'd hit him. A little confused, he answered with the only word he could think of in English that would fit: "No."

This upset her, as she intended to find a way. Thinking he was teasing her about there not being a possibility, she decided to set him straight. Punching toward him, she started the fight up again in hopes to make him be serious. He ducked beneath the punch, pulling the hair between them tight against her outstretched arm. Before she could recognize the dangerous position, he had wrapped her own hair around her wrist, using it to trip her.

She rolled to the side, led by the hair, but recovering so quickly it seemed she had done it purposefully and landed on her feet. Turning the boy's own tactic against him, she then dragged him closer, reeling him in with the connected braids. He was unable to resist. The knife came out again, disappointing the male when he felt it press up against his jaw.

He looked down, the frustration of not knowing how to make her stop tiring. They could not fight their way out of this. The only chance of getting apart was when they both accepted shehaylu had been made between their souls. Even death would not separate it. Unintentionally, his eyes fell upon the body of his fellow captive. The blue, striped torso rose and fell with a determined consistency that only succeeded in mesmerizing the boy by its power and relative clothlessness. Worn by all the Na'vi girls up top was nothing but an elaborate bead and feather necklace on a thick cord, which did not leave much to the imagination.

Moving on, he thought such a bond would not be so unbearable had it not begun by being shot at. That waist, which was just so graspable, brought a dreamy sigh, and he accepted the fate, pulling her closer to himself.

The recipient of the affectionate gesture tensed under his grip, thus tugging harder at the boy's hair and digging the knife into his skin. Surprised, he looked up, into the death glare of her eyes. Feisty, fierce, she at least knew how to fight. He would give her that. And life together would surely be far from dull. If he could only communicate to her to _stop_ trying to kill him, he could probably forgive her for it. First, though, he would have to disarm her.

Grabbing the small blade between his teeth with his playful smirk returned, he pulled it from her hand, and turned to throw it away.

Still upset that he had touched her sides, she threw their melded braid over his head to his throat and pulled back sharply. "What the hell are you doing?" She demanded. "I'm still trying to be mad at you."

He did not have to struggle long for air, knowing very well the move that countered hers best was to flip her over his head to the ground. Following her rather hard impact, he landed, knees on each side of her, pinning her back to the ground as she tried to rise. Knife still in his hand, the girl thought he would kill her now and strived to free herself. He had no such intentions, however. It simply sank into the dirt as his left hand migrated from holding her down to brush across her lips.

Moist, smooth, he began to drift off again, brought back to reality by a furious girl swatting away his hand. She attempted to escape once more, but he pressed her firmly to the forest floor. Her necklace had fallen away, and the boy praised gravity as he ran a finger along her collar bone toward the newly bared skin.

She had had enough. As good looking as he was, he was really pissing her off right now, which was a much stronger emotion. Only this time she could not shove him away. Thoroughly convinced it was a romantic moment for both of them, the boy leaned further in, hoping to steal a kiss.

_That_ she would not allow. Mustering all her force when he least expected it, she launched him off to the side. He landed in a bush laughing for some reason she could not understand. After a moment of that, he pulled himself together. Serious look upon his face, he pushed himself into a squat, reaching out a hand in offer for the two to stand together and avoid unnecessary pain. She accepted, but did she have much of a choice when he was already pulling her to her feet before she agreed?

Holding the two braids before her face, he calmly stated, "Oeng simuntxa." If there was another option other than to just tell her they were married and hope she understood, he could not think of it. Thus, he repeated the words more slowly. Married—simuntxa—she could not try to kill him. But it did not seem like the point was reaching her.

Recognizing that he was trying to explain something to her, the girl refrained from attacking him. Crossing her arms, her posture clearly showed her impatience as she watched the boy fail at explaining himself. If he would only speak in a language she could understand, she would know whether or not to believe him.

"Do," he stuttered out eventually, "do…y-you…under…stand?"

"No," she answered like it was obvious.

Having held onto that as his only remaining hope of getting through to her, he let his shoulders slump in despair. Of course she did not. She had not understood anything he said to her except for the original insult. What now? Was he really meant to fight her to one of their deaths? Was there anything he could do to make her comprehend, or at least to calm her down?

Finally, he thought of something that might do both. Taking her hand in his, he ran off. By obligation she tagged along behind. He ran with an incredible grace, a flow that did not seem to impact the ground, and he was never smacked by stray leaves. Faster than the girl could even see where she was putting her feet, he dragged her along an invisible path through the forest. She had thought she was a decent runner, better than most in her condition. But the pure, native Na'vi were so light on their feet it was amazing. To them, yes she was weak; she was still broken. She could run like that someday, but not yet.

It still did not mean he should have pointed it out. In her effort to keep up, the root of a tree leapt suddenly from the ground in front of her. She stumbled, not falling, but enough to stop their flight and earn a glare from the boy leading.

"You're going too fast," the girl took the chance to complain while they paused.

"Nga tul ketslusam," the boy repeated what he had said originally—_you cannot run. _ After mentioning that, he took off running again, slower but not much.

Being completely focused on only following the steps of the boy, she missed many marvels of the forest passing by. The brilliant colors, the variety in plants, and a flock of exotic birds taking to the air all escaped her view. Similarly, she did not notice they were approaching a cliff until the boy had pulled her off it and she was falling toward her death.

Gasping, she was not the kind to scream. Her companion did not appear the slightest bit afraid, and he gave her hand a comforting squeeze. He could feel them become instantly sweaty after the jump. This was not as bad as it looked to her. As the jagged rock cliff soared upward toward the heavens all around them, a beast came up out of the mist beneath. Responding to its master's call, it flapped its four wings, leveling out just in time for the boy to land on its back. Gripping its neck tightly between his thighs, he pulled his wife up into place behind him.

Once he was sure she had not died from the jump and was holding him firmly enough to not fall—grasp she only took when the creature made an abrupt turn, almost dumping both off—he grabbed his hair, expecting to make shehaylu with his ride. He had forgotten he was already attached to something. Frustrated, he took manual control. It was slower and more concentrated, but it was possible.

At first, the girl protested, ordering, "Let me off, put me down!" He only ignored her insisting and her irritating elbow in his side. Thinking about flying them safely was taking up all his consciousness. His silence to her concerns eventually led her to stop protesting and to slowly take in where she was. Even inseparable from her current enemy, this situation was to be indulged in. She could not get off, so she might as well enjoy the ride.

After only a few turns where she thought she might fall off her perch atop the tipping creature, she began to realize she was safe. The warmth of the back against her chest became a comfort, reminding her there was something secure to hold on to, that would certainly make sure she kept in place—or else he would pull her back on. Anxieties aside, she saw the beauty they were flying by.

They were in a gorge, though which flowed a rushing river. The waterfall that had caused the mist before was now visible behind them, from a distance. Small plants grew directly from the rock wall, training down toward the river. The world looked like a layered cake: blue water, brow rocks, green trees above, and then the sky.

Bursting out of the canyon, for a minute all they could see was sky. Fluffy, thin clouds spread beneath them just enough to disguise solid ground. Seeing nothing but clouds and sky gave a sort of weightless feeling. Were they going forward, backward, up, or down? She could not tell, but she felt like she could float away.

Two groups of the same reptile they rode upon swooped in from a distance. Calling out a greeting to their fellow, they continued on their way, flowing by on every side of the boy and girl without any difficulty trying to avoid hitting the riders. Before them some tall, jagged rocks came into view, hovering just above the clouds. The forest draped over the edge of the large rocks like a bride's veil. It was beautiful: the mysterious way they floated, the waterfalls that plummeted to nowhere and dispersed.

The boy turned his transport sharply around one, revealing for the first time the sun on the horizon. It was setting quickly. Just for a moment, the sky was a foggy purple, the clouds beneath had turned to pink, and the islands all around were glowing a goldish tint as the sun reflected off their wet sides. Amazed, she gawked at the setting and leaned in closer to her driver. A hand that had at first only held him in self-preservation, now drifted up, lightly stroking the muscle just under his arm.

He tensed at first, a little nervous, a little ticklish, but then he sighed. Even from behind, it was easy to tell he had smiled with relief. Not too much further along, the boy pulled the beast to an abrupt halt and it dropped the last couple feet from the air to a stand. The landing always gave a bit of a jolt, but even worsened by his lack of control he did not let it cause his girl to slip. Jumping off the side, he just barely made it to the ground before their braids pulled taut. Turning back to the creature, he held out both hands to help the girl down. Unaccustomed to dismounting from this animal, she accepted this time.

On the ground, he gestured to the tree behind him and tried once more, "Oeng simuntxa. Ngahu, Eywaeo," he explained, showing her shehaylu again and pointing back to the tree.

The girl looked over her shoulder to the tree. White leaves hung around the wide trunk to the ground, glowing in the dark twilight, casting an odd green tint all around, while it itself had a pinkish aura. He had taken her to Eywa, their sacred place. Was this the way to get apart? Had he been trying to say that all along?

He drew her attention back when he attempted to repeat it in English, "You…and me." He paused awkwardly when he did not know the words for the rest of it. After moments of trying to find a way to say it verbally, he decided to describe it in a language both of them would understand. Rushing in, he kissed her, passionately as a one sided kiss could be, and then pulled away a couple inches, expecting her to respond by slapping him.

Maybe she would have, but somehow this time it felt right. Lingering close to her, he seemed so hopeful that she would return love to his gesture. Looking at him—his tensed muscles, his face covered with intricate patterns of newly appeared, glowing freckles—she realized that all this time she had been turning down the affections of a strikingly good looking man. Not about to let the chance slip by again, she brushed her hands across his firefly cheeks. Stopping at his chin, she took hold of his face and kissed back.

A surprised feeling passed from him to her as a first thought. It was not long, though, before shock became gratitude, and the kiss was finally mutual. Lacing his fingers through her smaller, loose braids in front, he could feel when their hair disconnected, knowing they had both accepted the marriage. He faltered just slightly when next her arms slid gently down the front of his chest, leaving that same tickled sensation at the same time as she pulled away from his face, biting just lightly at his bottom lip.

He had been certain the moment they were separated, she would leave him completely. Toying with one of the beads at the tip of her hair, he pondered why possibly she was not. Even the way she drifted back and forth across his chest with her finger was not most convincing. Then, she clutched his ribs, squeezing the muscles just enough to sting a bit, and he believed. Smiling, he knew she would stay.

Gently, he tripped her, pushing her down to a soft bed of moss. A group of small white moths flew off, reflecting strange colors in the lights of the night. This was all so _deja-vu,_ she realized, looking at the way the moon shown on the boy currently straddling her in her prone position. As he leaned in, however, the warmth of his chest against hers was a comfort, and she began to run her finger up and down the vertebrae of his spine. When she lingered at the bottom, he smiled, a hot kind of cheesy grin. Pushing away a little, he bent down to plant a kiss on each of her breasts, once more uncovered by the necklace's displacement.

Between small pecks he made up her chest to her neck, he stated, "Oel ngati kameie sì ireiyo."

They were words she recognized, spoken frequently by the Na'vi she knew. "I see you," a greeting, a consolation, an understanding, a recognition, and then, "thank you." Two expressions could mean so much to these people, so much to her. It was a welcome into his life and a gratitude for having accepted the invitation.

She grasped at his muscular sides again, an affirmative response as he reached her lips once more in his progression. One more thing came to mind about his words. Together the two expressions were used most in hunting, once you have caught your prey. The hunt? Her thoughts flashed momentarily to the beginning of the day, but anything that had been on her mind earlier was now of no importance.

Their hearts beat as one; though, his deeper breaths slightly outlived hers, playing an unusual beat of their rising and falling chests. When he pulled away from the kiss, a bit of the thrill leaving him in remnants of a dazed bliss, she gathered the force to turn him over on his back. Running a finger across his lips, she moved down to his chin, along his collar bone. After taking a detour over a firm pectoral—that twitched as a tingling chill went down his spine—she followed the chill down his chest toward something he knew she was headed for.

He smiled, gesture returned by her as she leaned in closer, palms roughly on his shoulders. She had found her prey.


End file.
